


A Morning

by macsabot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macsabot/pseuds/macsabot
Summary: “G’morning.”Sherlock murmured into John’s shoulder.“Good morning. I made breakfast.”





	A Morning

**Author's Note:**

> also from my tumblr, @shurplepurpofsex  
> loosely based on a prompt

Soft sheets tickled the beginnings of grey stubble, coaxing John out of his restful sleep. His left arm was numb beneath the body of the larger man that remained sleeping soundly beside him, but John was in no rush to remove it for fear of waking Sherlock. It was nice to finally see him sleeping.

John stretched his right arm up and out, back arching slightly as the grogginess crawled away from his bones. The sun shined into the room gently, visible through the pale curtains that had been closed half-heartedly the night before. 

Light stroked the cheekbones of the sleeping man, emphasising the striking bone structure which suited the man so prettily. John reached over to him, trailing his fingers over Sherlock’s jaw line with a soft sigh. Carefully, John pulled his arm out from beneath Sherlock, flexing his fingers slowly as feeling came flooding back into them. He slipped out of the bed, pressing a chaste kiss to the forehead of the other man before leaving the bedroom.

Bare feet padded into the kitchen, eyes ignoring the mess of the kitchen table in favour of searching for clean mugs. Once John had located two mugs, he turned the kettle on and began the hunt for edible food.

Twenty minutes later, John made his way back into the bedroom, balancing a few plates and the mugs of tea on one of Mrs Hudson’s trays. Sherlock was still lay in bed, though he had turned to face the window, exposing a vast amount of skin that was almost as pale as the cream sheets that were tangled up in Sherlock’s long legs.

John smiled to himself, pushing an assortment of objects around on the bedside table, clearing enough room to set the tray down. He climbed back into the bed, arms wrapping around Sherlock’s torso. The taller man groaned weakly in protest as John began nuzzling into Sherlock’s hair. Long, pale limbs stretched taut before Sherlock rolled over to return John’s hug. 

“G’morning.”

Sherlock murmured into John’s shoulder.

“Good morning. I made breakfast.”

John slowly sat up, retrieving the tray from the bedside table and placing it between them as Sherlock sat up. 

After the breakfast, which consisted of tea and toast and some fruit which John had grabbed from Mrs Hudson’s flat when he borrowed the tray, Sherlock pecked John’s cheek as a thank you, and both men curled back up in bed.

They spent another hour or so dozing, sneaking kisses in at random moments and cuddling well into the afternoon.


End file.
